Pledge
by President Luthor
Summary: Weeks after Voyager's arrival on Earth, Chakotay and Torres are hauled before the dreaded Maquis Inquiry. With careers on the line, an Enterprise crew member must defend them - or condemn them. COMPLETE
1. CH 1

RATING: PG-13  
  
TIMELINE: Shortly after the arrival of Voyager on Earth.  
  
SUMMARY: After two weeks filled with celebrations in honour of the returning crew of the Voyager, there is unsettled business in the halls of Starfleet. The dreaded Maquis Inquiry, designed by militant members of Starfleet Intelligence to weed out 'traitors' in the Federation, has entered its second straight year. The tale begin in the vast compound of Starfleet Command, San Francisco ...  
  
[Starfleet Intelligence HQ, hearing room 2B]  
  
The security officer outside the hearing room stood at attention as Cmdr. Chakotay and Lt. Torres approached. The steel doors slid open.  
  
"Do you have any idea why we were summoned here?" Torres wondered.  
  
"Your guess is as good as mine," Chakotay replied. "Capt. Janeway simply told me that the powers-that-be in Starfleet Intelligence insisted that we report here."  
  
Torres seemed puzzled. "We've been here well over two weeks! Why wait until now to summon us?"  
  
A lieutenant directed them to a steel committee table. When they took their seats, Chakotay leaned towards his half-Klingon friend.  
  
"When we were the darlings of the Federation," he whispered, "feted by the Admiralty and the ambassadors, it probably would be impolitic to call us in for a briefing."  
  
The doors behind them swished open. Cmdr. Riker was hastily adjusting his uniform.  
  
"Commander?" Torres blurted out.  
  
"Do you know why we were summoned here so soon?" Riker wondered. "I was helping Laforge with upgrades to the Enterprise's photon torpedo bays: apparently an outbreak of the flu has kept most of our engineering crews in bed. With Picard on extended leave, I've had to take on matters of protocol normally left to the captain. My plate's full enough already."  
  
"Then you don't know why they called you here?" Chakotay asked.  
  
"I was ordered here," Riker shrugged, "by the Admiralty." He nodded towards the lieutenant who had ushered them to their seats. "Excuse me, lieutenant. Do you know what this meeting is about?"  
  
"I don't know either," the lieutenant remarked. "but I guess Admiral Ravvik will explain things when he arrives."  
  
Riker's eyes widened in shock, as he let out a frustrated sigh.  
  
"You know of this Ravvik?" Chakotay mumbled.  
  
Riker leaned towards the Voyager shipmates. "Two years ago, there was a political tug-of-war between rival camps in the Intelligence hierarchy. There were those who wanted to consolidate our gains: they were called the 'diplomats' because they wanted to rely on negotiations and treaties to secure the Federation's interests ..."  
  
"I suppose there were those who didn't like that," Torres replied.  
  
"Ravvik was a Starfleet captain, a Vulcan, who had caught the attention of the Intelligence hierarchy," Riker continued, "He was promoted to the Admiralty, and he immediately took a more aggressive approach and surrounded himself with members of the 'cavalry' faction."  
  
"Cavalry?" Chakotay snickered.  
  
"This faction grew weary of negotiating and sought more -- persuasive -- methods of achieving Federation goals," Riker mentioned. "That new shipyard in Oakland? It was his idea. Some say he plans to double the size of the fleet in five years. Word to the wise: Ravvik is not a man to cross."  
  
"I don't think I like the sound of this meeting," Torres sulked in her chair.  
  
The door swished open again. Admiral Ravvik, who appeared to be around 40 years old, entered. "All rise," the lieutenant announced. The three officers quickly stood at attention.  
  
"At ease, officers," Ravvik replied. "You may be seated." For several minutes, there was silence as the admiral briefly reviewed data pads. He studied them meticulously. Chakotay coughed uncomfortably in his seat. Once in a while, the beep of a data pad button would break the silence. Torres sipped at a glass of water and glanced at Riker, who stared blankly at the ceiling lights.  
  
"Cmdr. Riker of the USS Enterprise," Ravvik spoke, "I've often heard of you, but I've not had the pleasure of meeting you. Your captain speaks highly of you."  
  
"Thank you, sir," Riker answered.  
  
"I thank you for your work on the Counter-Insurgency Project," Ravvik stated.  
  
Chakotay raised an eyebrow in surprise.  
  
"I was actually a substitute," Riker explained, "Worf's name was forwarded to Starfleet Intelligence, but by that time he was on the frontlines of the Dominion War."  
  
"You are much too humble, Commander," Ravvik stated. "Your insights will help us react to trouble spots throughout the Federation. In fact, your work on the CI Project qualifies you to be here. As an advocate."  
  
"An advocate?" Riker stood up, stunned by the news. "For what purpose?"  
  
Ravvik quietly tapped his data pads. Minutes of silence.  
  
"Admiral?" Riker demanded.  
  
Ravvik focused his gaze on the Voyager officers, ignoring Riker's question. "Cmdr. Chakotay, Lt. B'Elanna Torres. You were granted field commissions aboard the Voyager shortly after the ship disappeared from the Badlands seven years ago, is that correct?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Chakotay replied. He looked over to Torres, who suddenly sensed that something was wrong.  
  
"According to Intelligence Regulation 967, passed by the Intelligence Committee six months ago: 'A Starship captain cannot grant field commissions to those who have not recanted their loyalties to parties deemed hostile to the Federation'.  
  
"I don't believe this!" Riker exclaimed. "You mean to say this ... is the Maquis Inquiry!" He shook his head in disgust. "No, no, I won't be a party to this. These are Starfleet officers, not Maquis terrorists!"  
  
Ravvik exhaled, seemingly indifferent to Riker's outburst. "The Maquis Inquiry is designed to provide Starfleet with the ability to seek out elements within our ranks that may pose a threat to the security of the Federation."  
  
He tapped a data pad, then handed it to the lieutenant. "Take this to the Admiralty." The lieutenant nodded, then left the room.  
  
Riker appeared to be ready to begin another tirade, but Ravvik held up a hand to stop him.  
  
"The Starfleet Code of Discipline does not apply to them," Ravvik muttered, "since -- as of this moment -- they are no longer Starfleet officers." He looked again at Torres and Chakotay. "I have reviewed your field commissions. And have revoked them."  
  
"Starfleet is not a police state!" Riker declared. "Chakotay, Torres, we're leaving. Don't give this witch trial the dignity of any testimony."  
  
"Walk out that door, Cmdr. Riker," Ravvik replied, "and I will hold you in contempt of this inquiry. You can bid your duties on the Enterprise farewell if it comes to that. I have appointed you as their advocate. You will do your job -- and do it well." Riker could barely contain his anger. Many officers had lost their careers because they had sympathized with the Maquis' activities in the Badlands. Now, two members of the Voyager's crew were facing the same danger.  
  
Ravvik glanced briefly at Riker. "If you prefer, I will appoint one of my subordinates to stand in your place."  
  
Riker traded excited whispers with Chakotay and Torres. What choice did they have?  
  
"I will accept's the advocate's role," Riker replied. "But I will need time to continue my duties aboard the Enterprise."  
  
"That won't be necessary," Ravvik commented. "Lt.-Cmdr. Data will assume your role as acting captain until the end of proceedings. I suggest you use the extra time to prepare your clients' defense."  
  
"How can I plan a defense," Riker barked angrily, "when I don't even know what the charges are?"  
  
Ravvik's even-tempered mood changed, as he impatiently sighed. "They are Maquis. The charges are conspiracy to commit acts against the Federation, terrorism, sabotage and treason. If your clients are found guilty of treason, rest assured they will never wear a Starfleet uniform again."  
  
"And if I succeed?" Riker challenged.  
  
Ravvik paused, as if that possibility was absurd. "Then their field commissions will be restored. Of course, we can end this inquiry today -- if the former commander and lieutenant are prepared to sign this recantation." He crossed the committee room and presented a data tablet to Torres and Chakotay.  
  
Torres grabbed the tablet and read it, as Chakotay looked over her shoulder.  
  
"I so declare ... reject the political objectives as rebellious ... consider Maquis activities as treasonous in intent ..." Torres mumbled through the document. She tossed the tablet on the ground.  
  
"My friends were massacred when the Federation gave their concessions to Cardassia!" she growled. "I will not let you disgrace their memory by forcing me to call everything we believed in -- fought for -- as a lie!"  
  
Ravvik picked up the document. "So be it. Proceedings commence at 0900 hours tomorrow."  
  
He began to return to his desk, then stopped. "Please hand over your communicators and rank insignia to Cmdr. Riker. You are no longer Starfleet officers entitled to the privileges of that uniform."  
  
Torres slammed her communicator on the table, ripped the rank pips from her collar and flung them on the floor. She stormed out of the room.  
  
"B'Elanna!" Chakotay hollered, to no avail. He slowly removed his communicator, then carefully removed his rank insignia.  
  
"I had hoped that my field commission would be confirmed," Chakotay pouted, "because I thought I had earned it."  
  
"I'll see you at the mess hall at 0800 tomorrow," Riker mentioned to Chakotay, "Commander." He made sure the admiral heard him address Chakotay by rank.  
  
When he picked up Torres' rank pips, Riker glared at Ravvik. "I intend to inform Capt. Picard of this. As you know, he opposed the Admiralty's adoption of these new intelligence directives. Directives not sanctioned by the Federation Council."  
  
"You'll learn that the captain of the Enterprise does not hold the degree of influence in the Council that he once did," Ravvik warned. "Be mindful of that, Commander, lest your own career suffers because of it."  
  
Half an hour later, Riker returned to the Officers' Club.  
  
"Whisky, straight up," Riker told the bartender. In the corner, he saw Lt. Tom Paris sulking alone. Paris spotted Riker, then got up and marched towards the bar.  
  
"What the hell just happened at Intelligence HQ?" he demanded.  
  
"The rumours are true," Riker muttered between sips. "The Maquis Inquiry for the Protection of the Federation is alive and well. They're not going to rest until every last Maquis sympathizer, brigade commander and political activist is swept away from Starfleet."  
  
"Chakotay's spoken to Janeway," Paris noted, "and I've filed a formal complaint with Admiral Paris. Janeway intends to speak with Federation councillors tonight. I assume you've told Picard?"  
  
Riker sighed. "Admiral Ravvik has let it be known -- in no uncertain terms -- that no amount of political horse-trading will derail his goal. He already has their commissions. What he wants is to destroy their reputations."  
  
Ensign Kim burst into the Officers' Club. "Tom, I just heard. I'm so sorry."  
  
He noticed Riker at the bar and confronted him. "How could you just let that Star Chamber strip them of their ranks!"  
  
Riker, frustrated (and boldened by his second drink), stood up. He towered over Kim.  
  
"If I antagonized him further," Riker barked, "we'd all be in the brig right now! He gave me no choice! If I refused the advocacy role, the admiral would have foisted one of his flunkies on them. That would be tantamount to a guilty verdict for your shipmates!"  
  
Riker quickly downed what was left of his third drink. "So you will excuse me, Ensign, if I don't give a damn how you think I handled today's events!"  
  
Humbled, both Paris and Kim gave the commander some space. "I'm sorry, Commander," Kim apologized. "Me too," Paris stated. "It's just that we were so glad to be home at last, only to find out that the Starfleet we once knew is so --"  
  
"Corrupt," Riker muttered. "On the surface, the admirals pat us on the back. 'Good job, son' they'd tell us. But behind closed doors ... inside the strategy rooms of Admiral Hall, the Observations Section deep within Starfleet Security ... there are those who are defiling everything we believe in."  
  
"So what can we do?" Kim wondered, "We're so low on the chain of command that we risk losing our own uniforms if we object."  
  
Riker nodded in agreement. "Don't do anything on your own, alright? Right now, anything rash would be too dangerous. Talk to Lt. Cmdr. Tuvok. He knows Starfleet Intelligence inside-out."  
  
He glanced warily at the other officers, then spoke quietly. "I assume Tuvok is now acting Number One of the Voyager?"  
  
"As of tonight, yeah," Paris remarked.  
  
"Tell Tuvok to co-ordinate with Data -- he's acting captain of the Enterprise," Riker revealed, as he waved away another drink. "I've been relieved of my duties until this inquiry is over. Don't use Starfleet subspace communications. I'm sure they're tapped."  
  
"I could work on some encryption protocols," Kim hushed, "run it by Laforge."  
  
Two admirals entered the Officers' Club. The conspirators huddled against the bar.  
  
"You're all taking risks," Riker warned. "If Ravvik suspected something awry, he'll destroy you."  
  
"We just lost our executive officer and engineering chief," Paris muttered, "how much worse can it get for us?"  
  
"Janeway's untouchable," Riker commented, "The return of the Voyager is a formidable feather in her cap. The militants in the Admiralty won't dare move against her now. I know there are plenty of half- truths and rumours about her. One thing's clear ... she's moving up. That's your trump card -- if it materializes. Play it cool. Keep your cards close to your vest."  
  
"If only Capt. Picard were here," Kim hoped -- still starry-eyed over meeting the living legend.  
  
"I wish he were here too," Riker said. Paris motioned that he was returning to the Officers' Quarters, where Torres had sought refuge. Kim nodded to Riker, then left the club in the opposite direction.  
  
Riker finished a glass of water, waited a few minutes, then left the club. As he walked across the compound, he spotted a familiar face.  
  
Jellico. Admiral Jellico -- who had been raised to the Admiralty a year ago. Riker detested the man's abrasive command style. Yet, he was efficient and capable.  
  
He couldn't tell if the admiral was part of the 'diplomat' faction, who wanted to maintain the status quo and avoid reckless campaigns ... or the 'cavalry' faction, who wanted a militaristic Starfleet who would defend Federation's frontiers by force, subterfuge, and god knows what else.  
  
Riker acknowledged the admiral. "Good evening, Admiral."  
  
The admiral glanced nervously around. No one was within earshot. He pulled Riker off the path, and behind a shuttle bay gatehouse.  
  
"Listen carefully," Jellico dictated silently. "Be careful."  
  
Riker gasped, but Jellico continued. "Don't talk, Riker. Listen. You're a smart man. You know what's going on behind the scenes."  
  
"Behind the medal ceremonies and diplomatic soirees?" Riker joked.  
  
"That's why I don't like you, Will," Jellico stated. "This is no time for fratboy taunts. You know about the factional in-fighting. So does Picard. Tell me ... where do you stand?"  
  
"Picard speaks for the crew of the Enterprise," Riker insisted. "So he speaks for me."  
  
Jellico was annoyed by Riker's cryptic responses. "Don't play coy with me! It's a time of flux in Starfleet Command. A time when men of conviction should act. Must act. The Picards and Janeways of the fleet may think their positions are shielded from what's going on. That's naive. And dangerous."  
  
"Why are you telling me all this, Admiral?" Riker smiled, hiding the real panic that had stabbed into his stomach.  
  
Jellico glanced at the flag of Starfleet atop the shuttle bay. "Indecision is going to rip the fleet apart. As the fleet falls, so goes the Federation." He paused, as if to summon all his strength.  
  
"Now is your time Cmdr. Riker," Jellico repeated, "So I ask you again ... where do you stand?"  
  
Riker stared at Jellico. He couldn't read the man.  
  
Riker enjoyed the clarity of command aboard a starship. When you give an order, it is done. This world -- a world of implied threats, countermanded field commissions, hushed meetings behind shuttle bays - - scared him. It was a shadowy realm of shifting alliances, like the tectonic plates of newborn planets. Jellico was now inviting him to play that game.  
  
A game with no rules.  
  
I'm not going to play that game, he thought.  
  
"I stand for the Federation," Riker declared. "For what it represents. What it could become. I believe Starfleet answers to the Federation -- not the other way around. I don't believe in playing games with its values for the sake of short-term, strategic advantage. If that makes me less of an officer in some people's eyes, I can live with that."  
  
Jellico grinned. Again, Riker could not tell if Jellico was pleased with his reply. Or relishing the fact that Riker had just ruined his career.  
  
"That's all I wanted to know," Jellico stated dispassionnately. "The Admiralty is holding a closed-door session at Starfleet Command. Tonight. The Enterprise is still in orbit?"  
  
Riker seemed puzzled. "Yes, she is." Jellico returned to the pathway, towards Starfleet Command.  
  
"And where do you stand, Jellico?" Riker inquired, as he returned to the pathway. "Diplomat or Cavalry?"  
  
Jellico's mood soured. "You forget your place, Commander. I don't owe you an answer."  
  
As he watched the admiral walk into the descending dusk, Riker glanced nervously around. A few officers were scattered throughout the compound. They didn't notice the secret conference he just had with a powerful admiral.  
  
Riker rushed to the Officers' Quarters. He was already burdened with defending Torres and Chakotay against treason charges.  
  
Tonight, he was also conscripted into a larger, dirtier war.  
  
Ensign Kim was right, he frowned. If only Picard were here ...  
  
TO BE CONTINUED SOON 


	2. CH 2

In the conference room of the USS Enterprise, Data, Laforge and Worf listened carefully as Paris and Kim explained what Riker had told them. Everything from the factional in-fighting at the Admiralty to the revocation of Chakotay and Torres' field commissions. The Doctor, Seven and Neelix listened in stunned silence.  
  
While Seven looked impassively at them, The Doctor stared horrified at his crewmates. This was not the Federation he had expected to find upon his return. Neelix seemed undisturbed. He's handling it rather well, The Doctor thought.  
  
"I think I'm going to be sick," Neelix mumbled.  
  
Tuvok frowned. "My colleagues at Starfleet Intelligence told me about the recent upheavals in the Admiralty. I was not aware, however, that a crisis was imminent."  
  
"It's a high-stakes game," Kim sighed. "Everyone's hedging their bets. Waiting for the other side to make their move."  
  
"Capt. Janeway is pressing her allies on the Federation Council to hold an emergency session tomorrow," Seven stated, ". despite my advice to the contrary. This course of action may make her vulnerable to the Cavalry Faction."  
  
"They can't move against Janeway," Laforge concluded. "Word is that she's up for advancement. Cmdr. Riker's right: she's our best card right now."  
  
Tuvok's communicator chimed. "Commander? You have a priority message from Starfleet Intelligence."  
  
"Mr. Worf," Data stated. "Escort Cmdr. Tuvok to the secure communications station on deck 25."  
  
"Understood, sir," Worf replied.  
  
"Let's just hope those encryption protocols of ours do what they're supposed to," Kim hoped.  
  
"I've uploaded the Enterprise's databases of the Badlands conflict onto Cmdr. Riker's terminal at Starfleet Command," Data stated. He paused for a second. "The commander tells me that the Admiralty is holding a secret session tonight."  
  
"If it's a secret," Paris wondered, "how come he knows about it?"  
  
"He would not name the person who contacted him," Data admitted. "Only that a highly-placed source had told him. This source also asked if the Enterprise was in orbit."  
  
"Curious," Seven replied. "Why would a member of the Admiralty break the confidential nature of this meeting?"  
  
"Normally, he wouldn't," Laforge pondered. "Unless . he wants us to know!"  
  
Kim and Paris stared in disbelief. The cloak-and-dagger nature of the situation was bewildering. "Whoa, whoa, back up a bit," Kim insisted. "This source wants us to know about this meeting?! To what end?."  
  
"If we attempted to spy on the meeting," Data theorized, "Starfleet's terrestrial sensors would immediately trace it. Leaving us vulnerable to espionage charges."  
  
"Starfleet Command has an earth-based firewall to protect its communications," Laforge continued. "Nothing goes in or out without their knowledge. But it's land-based. Since we're in orbit, we might be able to bypass this firewall ."  
  
"Perhaps masked as routine sensor sweeps?" Kim suggested.  
  
"Commander, Ensign Kim, see what you can do about penetrating Starfleet's communications," Data ordered, "specifically those covering the Admiralty Hall. Tell no one what you are doing."  
  
As Laforge and Kim raced out of the room, Data turned to Neelix and The Doctor. "Doctor, please keep an internal log of every formal order I issue within the next 48 hours. Should members of the Cavalry Faction take action, I want to ensure there is an objective record of the events."  
  
"But wouldn't such a record implicate you?" The Doctor wondered. "If the faction's comrades retrieve the log, you will likely be arrested. You will lose your command."  
  
"Yes, that is the risk," Data replied indifferently.  
  
"But why?" The Doctor demanded.  
  
Neelix understood. Data wanted to protect the subordinate officers. If Ravvik's allies did retrieve the log, they would see that it was Data who had ordered these acts of espionage. Data hoped that Paris, Kim, Laforge and their conspirators wouldn't be blamed directly.  
  
Data, though, would bear full responsibility.  
  
"Doctor," Neelix confided, "It means Acting Capt. Data will take the fall if things go sour."  
  
Paris stood up, let out a frustrated sigh, and looked outside the window. Towards Earth. "Looks like the honeymoon's over for the Voyager crew," he muttered.  
  
The room doors slid open, as Worf and Tuvok returned.  
  
"Neelix, Lt. Paris you have your orders. You are dismissed." Tuvok ordered. "Doctor, please wait outside for a moment. I wish to speak with Acting Capt. Data."  
  
Tuvok whispered something in Data's ear. The android nodded, then turned his attention to Seven.  
  
"Seven, you are to go to San Francisco," Data stated. Tuvok slid a data pad towards Seven.  
  
"The address listed is a safe-house," Tuvok revealed. "Remain there and let no one in - except Lt. Cmdr. Worf. When the time comes, he will provide you with further instructions."  
  
Seven skimmed through the data pad. "These are directions to the Starfleet Armoury. Clearance codes. Why are you giving me this?"  
  
"That is on a need-to-know basis," Tuvok replied. "Worf will provide you will civilian clothing, then beam you directly to San Francisco."  
  
"Understood," Seven nodded, then left. Worf hesitated. "Has the situation . come to this, Captain?" he asked.  
  
"Cmdr. Riker told me this is a time for men of conviction," Data remarked. "We must be ready for any eventuality."  
  
Worf grasped the severity of the crisis. If they succeeded, they would have saved Starfleet from ruin. If they failed, the plotters in the Admiralty would brand them as traitors.  
  
"Good luck, sir," Worf stated, then left the room. Paris immediately pounced upon him, followed by The Doctor and Neelix.  
  
"What's with all these nudge-nudge-wink-wink spy games?" Paris wondered.  
  
"Like you," Worf replied, "I do not like this shadow world of two- faced schemers. But, it is so. This cavalry faction has chosen the path of cowards. It is hard to trust others in such an environment."  
  
"You can trust us, Commander," The Doctor declared.  
  
Worf leaned towards the Voyager shipmates. "These are dangerous times. The next 24 hours are critical. Your friends before the Maquis Inquiry will need your support, now more than ever. When it is time to act, I will call upon you. Be vigilant."  
  
He nodded goodbye and boarded a turbolift. Paris shook The Doctor's hand.  
  
"Good luck on your mission, Doc," Paris said. "You're the only one who'll keep the facts straight if this whole thing goes down the drain. I've got to retrieve Chakotay and B'Elanna's logs from the Voyager databases."  
  
Neelix slapped The Doctor on the shoulder. "We're counting on you, Doctor!" He sprinted to catch up with Paris.  
  
The Doctor gulped. He had joined a conspiracy, where pretense and deception were the accepted tools of the trade. This was not medicine, he grumbled to himself. He nodded politely as an officer walked by.  
  
Starfleet was on the verge of ruin . and he had to smile as if nothing was wrong.  
  
Inside the room, Tuvok fell silent. He didn't quite know how to react to what he had just learned from his contact in Starfleet Intelligence.  
  
"You seem troubled, Commander," Data noted.  
  
"My contact informed me that Section 31 is watching the developments in the Admiralty closely," Tuvok stated.  
  
"The secretive - and outlawed - organization responsible for acts of subterfuge," Data replied, "supposedly in the name of Federation interests."  
  
"If they were to enter the fray," Tuvok hypothesized, "that could tip the scales in favour of the Cavalry Faction."  
  
"That is distressing news," Data answered. "The current political situation at Starfleet Command makes it difficult to separate fact from rumour. But we have no reason to discount Section 31."  
  
Tuvok strolled to the monitor, tapped a button and revealed a digital flowchart of the Starfleet hierarchy.  
  
"We can assume Section 31 has sleeper agents at Starfleet Command," Tuvok concluded. He pointed towards the Admiralty branch. "Should they side with the Cavalry Faction, and take control of the Security and Intelligence branches, they could paralyze the Federation's ability to act upon its own directives. The fleet would be frozen by indecision. In effect, they would achieve a coup d'etat without firing a single phaser shot."  
  
"We cannot allow that to happen," Data decided. "I will monitor the events at the Admiralty and inform you of any developments. I will inform Cmdr. Riker, too. As discussed, The Doctor will remain aboard the Enterprise for 48 hours."  
  
Tuvok stood up. "Then I wish you well, sir. Paris will transmit those logs Cmdr. Riker requires for tomorrow's inquiry." He paused in front of Data. "You are taking a great personal risk, sir. If we have miscalculated, you can expect a court martial. Ravvik's allies will want to silence further voices of dissent."  
  
"That is why I alone must take responsibility for these actions," Data declared. "It would be best to refrain from discussing these theories in the open. We do not want to create unnecessary panic among our crews."  
  
"Agreed," Tuvok replied as he left the room. He hoped the next 48 hours wouldn't become what he feared most: a civil war, fought between Starfleet officers aligned with each faction.  
  
Was this what Starfleet had become?  
  
In the morning, Torres and Chakotay paced in the foyer of the hearing room. Riker had breakfast with them at 0800 hours, then excused himself to retrieve files for today's inquiry. He appeared down the hall with a portable coffee flask.  
  
"I hope you're both well rested," Riker noted. "Ravvik might have us here for the better part of the day."  
  
They took their seats at the steel committee table. They were the only people there.  
  
"How's Capt. Janeway doing?" Chakotay inquired.  
  
"She's at the Federation Council for an emergency session," Riker stated, "but I fear that everyone's nervous about the power shifts in the Admiralty. If anyone's got the prestige at this moment to prod the Council into action, it's Janeway."  
  
The doors slid open. "All rise," a human Starfleet captain announced. Riker and the Voyager shipmates stood at attention. Another commander in the gold uniform of the Security branch followed the captain. Admiral Ravvik was the last to enter.  
  
"Let the record show that this session of the Maquis Inquiry for the Protection of the Federation has begun," the captain declared. "Will the defendants raise their right hands?"  
  
Chakotay and Torres raised their hands. The captain continued. "Do you pledge to tell the truth to this inquiry as fully as possible, with no omissions or errors?"  
  
"This whole hearing is based on lies," Torres muttered under her breath.  
  
"Not now, B'Elanna," Chakotay pleaded.  
  
"My clients so pledge," Riker replied, hoping that would satisfy the inquiry commissioners. The captain gestured that they can sit down.  
  
"I'm filing a motion to dismiss all conspiracy and treason charges outright," Riker presented a data pad to the commissioners.  
  
"On what grounds?" the captain demanded.  
  
"Whatever actions they may have done," Riker explained, "they can discuss them before the Federation's Reconciliation Committee: the only body sanctioned to sort out the fallout of the Cardassian occupation of Federation outposts in the Badlands and subsequent Maquis political actions."  
  
"The Committee was responsible for hearing the grievances of serving Starfleet officers, their Cardassian counterparts and Federation citizens who justifiably took up arms in that conflict," Admiral Ravvik droned. "We are operating on the fact that the Maquis are illegitimate combatants . and therefore not protected by the Federation's prisoner-of-war rules. We have suspended the Reconciliation Committee's mandate indefinitely. This inquiry replaces the committee's work."  
  
"The motion is rejected, Commander, so move on," the captain announced.  
  
"We are not about to get into a discussion about the Maquis' political views," Ravvik added. "The terrorism and sabotage charges are based on two incidents ."  
  
"The Maquis attack on the starship USS Hadrian," Riker answered. "in which neither of my clients were participants. And the other incident?" He glanced nervously at his Voyager clients.  
  
The USS Hadrian was sent into the Badlands six months before the armistice between the Federation and Cardassia. Its purpose: to enforce the neutral zone. Maquis raiders continued to harass any ship - Federation or Cardassian - that violated its claimed airspace. Riker was aware of this case, but not the other incident. More surprises, he grumbled to himself.  
  
"The second incident was the shameless sabotage of the science vessel, USS Vancouver," the commissioner in the security uniform stated. "We allege that both Chakotay and B'Elanna Torres - both senior operatives in the Maquis - not only had knowledge of the sabotage, but in fact ordered it. The Vancouver lost all hands on deck."  
  
"Starfleet reported that the Vancouver's destruction was an accident," Riker protested. "It was a faulty warp core containment field."  
  
Chakotay and Torres gasped. "Might we have a momentary recess to confer with our advocate?" Chakotay requested.  
  
"I would like to see all files related to the Vancouver incident," Riker stated. The captain picked up a stack of data pads and placed them on the defense's table.  
  
Riker studied the first pad. The de-classified Starfleet Intelligence Report outlined that the Vancouver was a science vessel. But it was not on a scientific mission.  
  
Maquis attacks had increased dramatically that time, as their supporters tried to derail the negotiations between the Federation and Cardassia. Starfleet was under pressure to relocate settlers in Federation outposts to be ceded to the Cardassians.  
  
The Vancouver had conveyed a covert team from Starfleet Security. Their mission: to disrupt Maquis activities "by all means necessary." They were to use Maquis tactics against the Maquis. Riker felt his stomach churn uneasily. Sabotage against fellow Federation citizens. It disgusted him.  
  
"Chakotay," Ravvik interrupted. "Were you not unit commander of Maquis Brigade 167?"  
  
"Don't say a thing!" Torres emphasized. "This entire process is corrupt!"  
  
"They intend to call us terrorists for defending our way of life," Chakotay argued. "I won't lie to feed their lies!" He glared defiantly at the admiral. "Yes, I was the unit commander."  
  
"Did you review the Vancouver's personnel manifest?" Ravvik inquired.  
  
Riker blanched as he read the names. He accepted their deaths years before, since it was an accident. 200 people. Former classmates, friends, colleagues . lost in an unfortunate warp core mishap. Those were the risks of space exploration.  
  
If the Maquis knowingly caused the deaths of Starfleet officers in the line of duty, then it was no act of war. It was a crime.  
  
"I'd like a recess to digest this new information," Riker replied.  
  
"You have a half-hour recess," Ravvik agreed. Ravvik smiled. He had planted a seed of doubt in Riker's mind.  
  
Riker hastily gathered his files and walked briskly out of the room.  
  
"Cmdr. Riker, please let me explain," Chakotay pleaded.  
  
"I don't like being left in the dark," Riker snapped, "Had you told me about the Vancouver incident, I could have prepared a rebuttal. I can't do my best to defend you if you don't tell me everything about your Maquis activities!"  
  
"That inquiry could never understand!" Torres exclaimed. "The Federation had turned their backs on us! They were going to give up our homes to appease Cardassia. We fought because we had no choice!"  
  
Riker spun around abruptly. "That's where you're wrong. Instead of waiting for a diplomatic solution, you chose to take up arms. If the Vancouver's accident was the result of sabotage, your impatience with diplomacy cost the lives of 200 Starfleet officers!"  
  
"What makes them different from the Maquis?" Torres demanded. "They were planning to undermine everything we believed in!"  
  
"They wore the Starfleet uniform with distinction," Riker snarled, "and died believing in the Federation. Could either of you say the same . when you were attacking Federation ships?"  
  
Chakotay held up his hand to try to halt the bickering. "What we did in the Badlands . is more complicated that you realize. This inquiry wants to paint all Maquis with the same brush. That's not fair."  
  
Riker regained his composure and sat on a nearby bench. "Then help me understand."  
  
"The Maquis weren't Borg," Torres replied calmly - keeping her temper in check. "We weren't one, unified group. We were groups with diverse interests cobbled together into an alliance. One of necessity. We had our share of moderates and militants."  
  
"Like those we're seeing now in the Admiralty," Chakotay commented.  
  
Riker sighed, realizing the irony. "Point taken, Commander. Look, we're all under stress. Ravvik wants to exploit that to drive a wedge between us. He wants to discredit you, so it will be easier to persecute other `sympathizers'."  
  
"That settles it then," Torres concluded. "We have to win this case. No matter what." Riker handed them several data pads. "Tell me what you know of the accident on the USS Vancouver."  
  
"I won't name names," Chakotay stressed, "but I will tell you what I know about the situation."  
  
As he listened to Chakotay's explanation, Riker began to appreciate the desperation within the Maquis ranks. Time was running out. The Federation had ceased negotiations with their representatives. Protests seemed to fall on deaf ears at Starfleet Command.  
  
They felt they had no choice, Riker pondered. But at the cost of the 200 lives aboard the Vancouver? Were they freedom-fighters, or terrorists? He drank another cup of coffee.  
  
The answers to these questions, Riker believed, would be the key to saving two officers. Officers who once challenged the Federation's authority by force.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED SOON ... 


	3. CH 3

As the Enterprise orbited Earth, Data studied his reflection in the window of the captain's Ready Room. The red uniform still seemed unusual. He had worn it before, but he was accustomed to seeing Cmdr. Riker and Capt. Picard in command. Necessity had thrust the responsibility upon him.  
  
The door chimed, then slid open.  
  
"Commander . er . Captain, sir," Kim stumbled over his words, "I believe Cmdr. Laforge and I have made some interesting discoveries during our sensor sweeps around the San Francisco bay area."  
  
"Ah, yes," Data realized. "Inform all project staff to meet in the secure communications station on deck 25 in 15 minutes."  
  
"Aye, aye, sir," Kim responded. As he boarded the turbolift, a petite blonde ensign also joined him.  
  
"Which deck, Ensign .?" Kim tried to recall her name.  
  
"Ensign Lara Maxwell," she beamed. "I've been on Ops here for about six months. And it's deck 10."  
  
"Computer, deck 10," Kim announced. The lights streamed past as the turbolift descended.  
  
"The junior officers are beginning to wonder, Ensign," Maxwell blurted out. "With all the Voyager crew here, Acting Captain Data in charge . there's something big about to happen, isn't there?"  
  
"There's nothing unusual, Ensign," Kim laughed. "Starfleet technology has evolved in the seven years we've been away. We're just getting up to speed."  
  
Maxwell paused. "But, Ensign T'Ral in engineering told me that Cmdr. Laforge has been conducting experiments all by himself after hours. The command ships of several sector fleets are either in dock or enroute." Kim's silence only fed her curiosity.  
  
"Is there another Borg invasion? Or is it the Dominion? Has Cardassia broken the armistice?" she wondered.  
  
"Ensign, I think your imagination is getting the better of you," Kim protested. "These are coincidences - nothing more." He exhaled in relief as they arrived on deck 10.  
  
"But, how about the unusual sensor readings from last night," Maxwell continued, "or Cmdr. Worf's training sessions with the Voyager crew?"  
  
"Good morning, Ensign," Kim waved goodbye, as the doors mercifully shut. "Computer deck 25."  
  
The turbolift appeared. Senior members of Project: Undertow had already assembled.  
  
"I guess we're waiting for Capt. Data to arrive," Kim observed, as the officers waited outside the communications station.  
  
"Only Data has the clearance codes to get in," Laforge replied. "Ensign, have you noticed that some of the crew are starting to put two and two together? Ensign T'Ral's been begging to help me with my `experiments'."  
  
"Tell me about it," Kim sighed. "Ensign Maxwell just gave me the third degree in the turbolift. She thinks the Cardassians are poised to sweep into Sector 001!"  
  
"There are over 1,000 crew members aboard the Enterprise," Tuvok noted. "We can only maintain the appearance of routine for so long . before the rumours begin to multiply."  
  
"The presence of over 50% of the fleet in this sector does seem odd," Worf added, "especially during a time of relative peace."  
  
The turbolift doors opened again. "Here's our fearless leader now," The Doctor nodded towards the android.  
  
"Computer," Data announced, "Erect a Level 8 force-field around this section. Disable the turbolift between decks 23 and 27." He approached the station and tapped the console.  
  
"Security protocol Epsilon. Authorization: Data, Acting Captain. Code 00237."  
  
The doors to the communications station opened.  
  
"Doctor, let the record show that I am ordering Cmdr. Laforge and Ensign Kim to decode the encrypted communications from Admiral Hall," Data stated.  
  
"Duly noted," The Doctor stated. He shuddered. With each order, Data was wading deeper into dangerous waters. Project: Undertow was designed to undermine the Cavalry Faction, whose supporters were some of the most powerful admirals and captains in Starfleet. Failure would surely end Data's career.  
  
"We masked our subspace tapping optics beneath a series of random geological sweeps," Laforge explained. "We were able to eavesdrop on that secret meeting."  
  
Kim switched on the speakers. "It took much of last night to filter out the interference from Starfleet's communication firewalls," he added. There were a few crackles.  
  
"You cannot build trust among the rank-and-file if you promote an atmosphere of mistrust," a voice had declared.  
  
"Admiral Paris," Tuvok noted. "Lt. Paris will be pleased to know his father is not a war hawk."  
  
Another voice yelled. "You would have us abandon our vigilance for the sake of appearance! The Federation is mired in indecision! We must not allow ourselves to grow soft."  
  
"Sounds like a `Cavalry' admiral," Worf grumbled.  
  
"Starfleet Security has cited the presence of Section 31 operatives throughout HQ," an admiral had remarked. "With over half the fleet in this sector, the chance for mischief is there."  
  
"That would be Admiral Jellico," Data frowned. "It appears the risk of Section 31 involvement is greater than we had thought."  
  
The communications crackled again. "We had to cut our sensor sweeps then," Kim admitted. "Several starships had just arrived from the Romulan neutral-zone."  
  
"We picked up our link about 10 minutes later," Laforge replied. "Computer, index the communications for 21:20 hours."  
  
"The Maquis Inquiry will continue," another voice demanded. "We must cleanse Starfleet of questionable elements."  
  
"Admiral Ravvik," Kim grumbled. "Voyager's favourite man of the hour."  
  
Several voices mumbled in the background. "It seems rather odd," Admiral Paris had observed, "that half the fleet would be here - now - for debriefings and exercises. Why the need to concentrate our ships here?"  
  
"I simply felt that it was time to update our captains from every corner of the Federation," Ravvik had replied. "We should all be certain what our purpose is. Where we stand vis-à-vis Starfleet's goals."  
  
"Hold as many meetings, debates and lectures as you like," Jellico groaned, "but our ships should be in space doing their duty. I expect the bulk of the fleet to be deployed again by 1200 hours tomorrow. Any ships still here better damn well have the proper security clearances."  
  
Several admirals agreed. A few voices complained, but they soon fell silent.  
  
"This meeting is adjourned," Admiral Paris declared. "We can resume if the Federation Council deems it necessary."  
  
The communications crackled, dissolving into noisy static. "That was all we could get," Laforge apologized. "With all the space traffic flying around, we were lucky to even get that much."  
  
"Ensign Kim, make a record of these discoveries," Data ordered. "With the crew starting to question our don't-ask-don't- tell policies of late, we need to keep them busy. Only when danger is imminent . should we inform them of the nature of the crisis."  
  
"That's better said than done," Laforge remarked. "We can play like nothing's wrong - maybe another day. After that, they'll be expecting some explanations."  
  
"We will proceed with Project: Undertow until further notice," Data ordered. "Please return to your duties. Try to discourage the spread of rumours. The fact is, there is no proven crisis. We are simply preparing for potential problems."  
  
As the conspirators left, he turned to Tuvok. "May I have a word with you?"  
  
Tuvok waited until they were the only officers in the room. "You are aware that over 50% of the fleet is either in Sector 001 or enroute?"  
  
"Yes," Data replied. He tapped a console, generating a digital view of starships docked all along the California coast. "It is unusual to see so many ships together, but not unprecedented. Still, we must plan for the worst."  
  
"If the Cavalry Faction is rallying its forces," Tuvok continued, "we must execute Phase II of the project if we are to succeed. We will have to act quickly."  
  
Data thought of the perils of Phase II:  
  
Worf and Seven would slip into the Starfleet Armoury and secure a large supply of phasers, rifles and power cells. They (and a company of Enterprise security officers) would go to Admiral Hall. They might have to rescue Diplomat Faction admirals and captains who may be in danger. Beamed aboard the Enterprise, they could rally their allies in the fleet.  
  
Lt. Paris and members of the Voyager crew would infiltrate the restricted Operations Section of Starfleet Security. There, they would need to disrupt its ability to deploy security personnel to Admiral Hall. Laforge and Kim would scramble Starfleet communications, temporarily paralyzing the fleet. The Cavalry Faction would likely have countermeasures, but that was unavoidable. Voyager would retrieve the insertion team, but in the event that fighting broke out between factions . their rescue would not be a top priority.  
  
Saving the leadership needed to preserve Starfleet (and thus, the Federation) was paramount.  
  
"Should Capt. Janeway become injured or ." Data began. He paused. Contingencies. That was the key. Any sloppiness on their part could be costly.  
  
"In the event of a leadership vacuum," Data revised himself, "with Janeway and Chakotay captured or killed . you effectively become captain of the Voyager. Your executive officer?"  
  
"I would grant a commander's field commission to Lt. Paris," Tuvok stated confidently, "with Ensign Kim as tactical chief."  
  
He passed Data a tiny disc. "The self-destruct codes to the Voyager."  
  
"And here are those of the Enterprise," Data passed over his own data disc. "Cmdr. Laforge would be captain, should I be incapacitated. Let us hope it does not come to this. If the Cavalry Faction takes the Enterprise, you are ordered to destroy it. As the flagship, it has a symbolic value."  
  
"Understood," Tuvok grimaced. "We must deny them such credibility." He clutched the self-destruct codes. Was all this necessary? He prayed that it wasn't.  
  
Before he exited the room, he turned around. "We may not be able to speak face-to-face again if we must execute Phase II. I want to say that . it has been an honour to serve with your crew. The Voyager crew will complete its duties admirably."  
  
Data shook Tuvok's hand. "I believe I speak for the Enterprise when I say that your crewmates demonstrate the finest qualities of Starfleet. I wish you well."  
  
Tuvok nodded politely, then left for the turbolift. He sighed, as he considered how the next 12 hours could affect Starfleet forever.  
  
Moments later, The Doctor received a transmission from Tuvok. The code word that would activate Phase II of Project: Undertow. He would have to send that code to Cmdr. Worf and Lt. Paris. Then, there would be no turning back.  
  
Restore, The Doctor observed. The word that could save the Federation from corruption. A word that might set the entire quadrant ablaze, as Starfleet tore itself apart over its core values.  
  
"Do no harm," The Doctor muttered. "How ironic that I, a medical officer, would hold the word that could send thousands of lives to their doom."  
  
At Starfleet Intelligence, the morning dragged on. The Maquis Inquiry dismissed Riker's attempts to present testimony supporting the defense. Chakotay and Torres were not even present during the attack on the USS Hadrian, but Admiral Ravvik argued that they must be responsible. Members of their own Maquis cell had participated in the attack, so the chain of command had to lead to them.  
  
"Do you have any further evidence regarding the Hadrian incident?" one of the commissioners asked.  
  
"No, I do not," Riker grumbled, "since you've obstructed my ability to summon former Maquis members to testify in my clients' defense!"  
  
"The Maquis have no standing here," Ravvik sneered. "This inquiry is not a forum for their extremist views."  
  
"Yet, you've accepted evidence from the Hadrian crew!" Chakotay barked. "How can this be an impartial inquiry if our people have no right to tell their side of the story?"  
  
Ravvik pressed a console button, which rang a chime. "We will recess for one hour and return after the lunch break." Chakotay and Torres shook their heads as they left, stunned that Starfleet Command had allowed this unjust inquiry to continue for two years.  
  
Two years ago, the inquiry was simply a hearing. The Maquis and the Federation would be able to air their grievances before an impartial panel. When the Cavalry Faction gained influence in the Admiralty, it became something insidious -- to be used for persecution, not prosecution.  
  
"Cmdr. Riker, might I have a word with you?" Ravvik asked.  
  
Riker gathered his files. What's next, he wondered privately.  
  
Ravvik nodded towards the two commissioners, who promptly left the room.  
  
"I can appreciate the stress you are under, Commander," Ravvik said. "The political climate at Starfleet Command is quite tense. One never knows whether the Admiralty is basing its decisions on facts or raw instinct."  
  
"I suppose you prefer decisions based on fact," Riker remarked to the Vulcan admiral.  
  
"Facts are defined by the environment around them," Ravvik observed. "This is a time of uncertainty. This makes it difficult to ascertain how correct some facts truly are."  
  
"Is there a point you're trying to make?" Riker demanded. He had grown weary of the nuances and innuendo of this political crisis.  
  
"A man of direction, hmm," Ravvik noted. "Then you are well suited to these times. I'll get right to the point. There will be a shift in Starfleet Command, as I'm sure you are aware. We now have the ability to set a course for the Federation that will ensure not only its survival, but its predominance. Think of it, Commander! The Federation banner flying throughout the Alpha Quadrant, in the Gamma Quadrant . and soon within the Delta Quadrant. Imagine the progress we could make!"  
  
"You speak of the Federation as if it were an empire," Riker scoffed. "when it should be a partnership of equals. I may not command my own ship, but I know when someone's putting on a poker face. What do you want of me?"  
  
Ravvik sighed as he skimmed through the endless data tablets of evidence. "You have done well as advocate for your colleagues. A performance worthy of a faithful Starfleet officer. You must realize that Chakotay and Torres' Starfleet careers are over, do you not? Their commissions were granted during extraordinary circumstances . with the Voyager assumed lost. Do you really think they would be in Starfleet now, had the Voyager captured them and brought them home? They would be charged with sedition. This inquiry merely corrects that oversight."  
  
"Chakotay and B'Elanna aren't bureaucratic errors," Riker insisted. "They're people who have spent the past seven years carrying the flag for the Federation in the Delta Quadrant, when it could have been far easier to forget its values. I don't pretend to think that it will be easy for them to win over those in Starfleet who see the Maquis as terrorists. No doubt, some of them were . and we should hold them to account. But these people you've charged aren't murderers and thieves! Their friends on those outposts felt abandoned by Starfleet. They wanted to defend their homes."  
  
"As am I, Commander!" Ravvik snarled, having lost his restraint. "You heard them! They believe the Maquis were justified to rebel against the Federation. How can we trust officers who cannot even accept the authority of the very body that legitimizes their uniforms? They are traitors, nothing more."  
  
"So they're damned - however I present my case?" Riker demanded. The inquiry was a farce. His friends were judged guilty even before they set foot in this room. Why waste all this time, he wondered. To what purpose? Why did they insist that he work diligently in their defense?  
  
Riker sorted through his data pads. "Why all this work, Admiral? Why ask me to wade through hours of logs, database files and communiqués? Let me tell you what I think. I think you want me to go through the motions. To give this inquiry the façade of legitimacy. Justice has been done, you'll declare. Chakotay and Torres had their `fair' trial. With the celebrated Voyager crewmates disgraced in the eyes of Starfleet, you can use this verdict as a signal that whoever you represent in the Admiralty will not tolerate dissent or any hint of disloyalty. That sounds like a cleansing of political thought, where only those deemed pure can serve in Starfleet. You may create a band of loyal followers, but at the cost of freedom of association, freedom of speech and freedom of thought."  
  
He pushed the pads away from him on the table. "No, sir. I won't be a patsy to your inquiry. I'm withdrawing as an advocate."  
  
"If that is what you choose," Ravvik replied. "I see you have inherited Picard's political acumen. Without an advocate, your friends will be summarily found guilty of all charges and sentenced to life at the Federation prison on the Jupiter moon of Europa. They will find nothing but frigid winds and endless oceans. A fitting fate for traitors who would paralyze our Federation with their corruption! You are a card player, are you not? If you play the right hand, you can go far. Your own ship, perhaps, along with a captaincy? Command of a sector fleet? There will be a purging of other traitors, leaving vacancies in the Admiralty. Our side needs men of both intellect and action. There will be a place for the ambitious. I hope, for your sake, you don't fold your hand."  
  
Riker smiled. "I'll call your bluff. I will be here for the afternoon session. And you're right, I know how to play cards . very well. You want to raise the stakes, eh? Let's see how impotent the Federation Council is. Janeway is addressing the Council at this moment. If anyone's running out of time, it's your faction. For the record, I'm not folding my hand because you have no idea what sort of cards I might have. Have a nice lunch."  
  
When he left the room, he joined Chakotay and Torres in the cafeteria.  
  
Chakotay noticed that Riker seemed more upbeat. "You seem chipper, Commander. Have our odds improved since this morning?"  
  
Riker seized upon a clubhouse sandwich. "No, they've actually gotten worse. We all knew this hearing is a fraud. He told me as much. He even had the nerve to offer me a captaincy, if I just played along."  
  
"So, where does that leave us?" Torres worried.  
  
"Ravvik and I anted up," Riker mumbled between bites, "I'll play along. But when the dealer's crooked, who says we have to stick to the rules? Let's hope we're holding better cards than he is."  
  
TO BE CONTINUED  
  
Riker enters a dangerous game with Ravvik. Are the stakes too high for the Enterprise commander? The next few hours are critical, as both factions in the Admiralty jostle for position. Is Starfleet on the brink of civil war, with over half the fleet in Sector 001? And where is Capt. Picard? The future of the Federation hangs in the balance. Careers can be made - or broken - in a moment. Stay tuned for the conclusion to 'Pledge'. 


	4. CH 4

Eight years ago, Chakotay was unit commander of a motley crew of Maquis partisans in the Badlands. They had committed numerous hit-and-run raids along the Cardassian frontier. They also blocked the Federation's attempts to move them from their settlements. With the Federation and Cardassia negotiating a shaky armistice, the Maquis' political leadership was losing its leverage.  
  
Something had to be done to solidify their resistance and force the Federation to recognize their grievances. Some Maquis cells were already considering sabotage against the Federation to draw attention to their views. Chakotay momentarily awoke from his long-suppressed memories from that era.  
  
"Please tell us about the events leading up to the USS Vancouver incident," Cmdr. Riker requested.  
  
When he began his testimony, Chakotay mind drifted again. He recalled that there was a flurry of activity in camp when one of their subspace sensors picked up a vessel with a Starfleet signature.  
  
Eight years. It was a lifetime ago, it seemed.  
  
"Is it a starship?" Chakotay had asked.  
  
"No," one of his subordinates answered. "It's a science vessel. The Vancouver."  
  
A few feet away, Torres and a dozen partisans were collecting supplies and phaser rifles.  
  
"Science vessel or not," Torres began, "we should at least have a look."  
  
Chakotay turned to his new recruit, Strickland. Once a Starfleet lieutenant who had been decorated as one of the few survivors of Wolf 359, Strickland had left behind his career to begin a new life in the Badlands.  
  
Strickland seemed loyal enough. Quick-thinking. Handy with a phaser. Not afraid to crawl under a shuttle to make unorthodox repairs. Willing to serve the cause.  
  
Chakotay wanted to trust him. After all, he was dedicated to preserving the Federation settlements at any cost. But Strickland seemed a bit too enthusiastic about fighting. "I'll take one of the smaller mining vessels," Strickland offered. "Have a look-see."  
  
Torres sensed Chakotay's uneasiness. "I'll co-pilot," she offered. Maybe I can keep an eye on our gung-ho friend, she thought.  
  
Another partisan sprinted towards the camp. "There's a platoon of Cardassian soldiers. About half a kilometre northeast. Sniffing around for our camp, no doubt."  
  
"Liquidate them," Chakotay ordered tersely. Years of fighting and Cardassian barbarity had numbed him from any remorse. It was war, nothing more. "No prisoners." Cardassia had showed no mercy to the Maquis they had captured. He intended to extend that same courtesy to these interlopers.  
  
"B'Elanna, take about two dozen Maquis with you," Chakotay decided. "Make it quick and clean. Take their weapons and comlinks when you're finished."  
  
"How about the Vancouver?" Torres wondered. She felt uneasy letting this Strickland out on a scouting mission.  
  
Chakotay tried to forget his nagging suspicions about Strickland. The Maquis needed to be united now, or their cause was lost. "I think Strickland has earned his stripes," Chakotay replied. "It's just a look- see. Anyhow, the sensors say it's only a science vessel. Minimal armaments. I don't expect trouble."  
  
Chakotay told the inquiry that he left the camp shortly after. On his way to town, he heard the phaser fight. The screams. He was used to them. Torres was a capable field commander. No Cardassian in that platoon would live to report their location.  
  
It was later that evening that he learned about the explosion aboard the USS Vancouver.  
  
"Commander?" Riker whispered. Chakotay blinked. He was back in the antiseptic hearing room at Starfleet Intelligence. The Maquis Inquiry.  
  
"So, are you telling this inquiry that you knew nothing about the sabotage of the Vancouver?" Admiral Ravvik demanded.  
  
"That's correct," Chakotay insisted. "I agreed that Strickland should have a look-see."  
  
"Look-see?" another commissioner asked. "Is that some sort of Maquis code phrase for sabotage?"  
  
"No," Torres interrupted, "it means Strickland went to have a look at the Vancouver . and see what it was doing in the Badlands."  
  
"Here is the dilemma," Ravvik analyzed. "Strickland was given an order to spy on the Vancouver, which had every right to be there since the territory was in Federation space. His action, by its very nature, implies a malicious intent."  
  
Chakotay sighed impatiently. "The Federation had refused to include our representatives at the eventual armistice. They were handing over our homes piecemeal! We felt abandoned by Starfleet, as Cardassians pillaged the outer settlements. If you want me to say that I saw Starfleet's actions as a threat to our existence, you're damn right I did . at the time."  
  
"The Maquis leadership were under intense pressure to act," Riker added. "They were torn between complying with the Federation's wishes to evacuate the ceded outposts, or continuing what could be classified as a legitimate uprising against Cardassia. We've long known about Cardassian violations in Federation territories. The Maquis were defending their homes."  
  
Ravvik shook his head at the reply. "The term, Commander, is rebellion. They were rebelling against the rightful authority: the Federation."  
  
"Please continue, Cmdr. Riker, your argument" one of the commissioners grumbled, "that neither of your clients are responsible for the destruction of the USS Vancouver."  
  
As Riker explained the emerging rift in the Maquis movement, Chakotay's mind wandered once more beyond Sector 001. Eight years ago . when he was fighting a losing battle.  
  
Chakotay had just returned to the Maquis camp. He wanted to know about the explosion in space. Torres was already there, with dozens of Cardassian rifles, gear and comlinks. Their hunt was successful.  
  
Strickland stumbled into the camp, with a bright red gash on his forehead. Dozens more returned from the front.  
  
"What the hell happened up there?" Torres exclaimed. "Where's the Vancouver?"  
  
"I - we . it's destroyed," Strickland blurted, as he pressed a cloth against his cut.  
  
"How?" Chakotay grabbed Strickland by the shoulders and shook him. "If you destroyed it, we'll have half the fleet swarming the Badlands by the end of the week!"  
  
"That was no science vessel!" Strickland declared. "We tapped their subspace communications. They had hundreds of security agents aboard! They were going to sabotage our generators. I tried to slip away, but they spotted me."  
  
"I told you to see what they're up to," Chakotay argued, "The last thing we need is to pick a fight with Starfleet!"  
  
"They fired on me first!" Strickland insisted, as he clutched his throbbing cut.  
  
"Starfleet fired on you, without provocation?" Torres asked. A crowd of Maquis partisans gathered around. Some began to bicker.  
  
"We - we had configured a makeshift sensor array to make it look like we were only surveying minerals," Strickland continued. "The Vancouver picked up our sensors and fired a shot at our port! We shut down our sensors, and the next thing I saw was this sickening bluish glow."  
  
"Please, tell me you didn't fire a shot at them," Chakotay hoped. Strickland caught his breath. "I was too busy trying to get out of their range. For a science vessel, they seemed to be packing some heavy artillery."  
  
Chakotay tried to appease his squabbling unit, but it was too late. They were truly alone, now that the Federation's actions effectively declared their movement as rebellious.  
  
Over the next few days, a debate raged throughout the Maquis movement. The militants wanted to begin attacks on Federation vessels to force their way to the negotiating table. Chakotay, Torres and the moderates wanted to refrain from starting a shooting war with Starfleet. The Maquis never regained their cohesion after the schism. Within weeks, Cardassian forces overran several Federation outposts - conveniently, days before the final armistice negotiations.  
  
The Maquis dismantled their camps and retreated to those outposts still loyal to their cause. Starfleet had already sent two starships to supervise the evacuation of Federation settlers. Strickland and the militants continued their own fight, at the cost of many lives. Chakotay heard rumours about a major skirmish close to the Cardassian frontier. By then, he and Torres were fleeting a Federation pursuit vessel called the Voyager.  
  
Chakotay and Torres would only learn recently that most of their comrades- in-arms died, their dreams shattered forever. Federation neglect and Cardassian conquests had sealed their fate.  
  
The beep of a data pad brought Chakotay back to the present. Riker had just completed his version of the destruction of the USS Vancouver.  
  
"They fired no shots," Riker concluded, "but they were fired upon. The Vancouver was not designed to be a warship. It was modified far beyond its capacity. If there's any blame, it falls upon the engineers who hastily cobbled together a warship because Starfleet Security ordered them to do it."  
  
"A touching story, Cmdr. Riker," Ravvik noted, "had the Maquis directed their actions against the Cardassians alone. Whey they spy on Starfleet vessels and defy the wishes of the Federation, they chose to abandon their loyalties. By ordering Strickland to commit an act of espionage, Chakotay and his subordinates set a course of events in motion that caused the destruction of the USS Vancouver and the loss of 200 lives."  
  
Ravvik stood up, glaring at the defendants' table. "The forcing of political action through violence. Is that not the definition of terrorism? The Maquis' raison d'etre was violent opposition."  
  
He pointed accusingly at Chakotay. "You and your leaders chose violence over political discourse. Revenge over reason. Your assault on the Vancouver was not an act of self-defence, but of murder. We have heard nothing to convince us that your actions were not based on malice. Do you think roaming the Delta Quadrant for seven years absolves you of your past crimes? I assure you, it does not!"  
  
He glanced at his commissioners. "This inquiry will give you our verdict within the hour."  
  
When the commissioners left, Chakotay extended his hand towards Riker. "Thank you, Commander."  
  
"For what?" Riker groaned. "They rejected my arguments at every turn, refused potential witnesses, concealed crucial logs from the Admiralty . to what end? They intend to drag your names through the mud to silence their detractors, while they take credit for protecting the Federation's interests."  
  
Chakotay settled into his chair. "When you were making your arguments, it got me to think about what we were fighting for in the Badlands. One could argue that the Maquis were the most fiercely loyal to the Federation's interests. We fought because the powers-that-be had begun to lose faith in its values. As bad as it seems now, I refuse to believe the Federation has become so rotten to the core that it can't be saved."  
  
"Haven't you heard a word Cmdr. Riker said?" Torres wondered. "This kangaroo court is going to convict us of treason. I, for one, am not looking forward to prison life on Europa!"  
  
"I would rather lose my career defending the values of the Federation," Chakotay insisted, "than keep my rank as one of Ravvik's toadies. We made tremendous sacrifices for the Maquis cause. This is a time for sacrifice. Our predicament might force others in Starfleet to wake up to what's going on behind closed doors. We're up against the ropes, but we haven't been knocked out yet."  
  
Riker patted Torres' shoulder. "We're doing everything we can to get both of you out of this mess. I'm not going to allow those militants in the Admiralty ruin the careers of two fine Starfleet officers. Have faith, Lt. Torres. Your shipmates haven't given up. And neither have I."  
  
As they left the Starfleet Intelligence compound, Riker stopped on the path. "I have been in contact with the Voyager and the Enterprise. I want you to know there are people in the Admiralty working on our behalf."  
  
"Lemme guess," Chakotay replied, "the crisis in the Admiralty is coming to a head."  
  
"I can't divulge any more," Riker revealed, "but you can be sure that you won't spend a day behind bars."  
  
Chakotay and Torres traded bewildered glances.  
  
"I'll see you two in an hour for the verdict," Riker noted. "I'm expecting an update on the Federation Council's emergency session."  
  
Riker left the Voyager crewmates confused by his secretive behaviour. What exactly were their friends aboard the Voyager and the Enterprise planning?  
  
Riker returned to Admiral Hall to retrieve the latest news from the Federation Council.  
  
And a classified update about Project: Undertow. It was 1130 hours. Half of the fleet was still in orbit.  
  
High above the planet, the Enterprise crew continued to perform routine drills, upgrades and exercises. Only the bridge crew (and select officers from the USS Voyager) knew that 1200 hours would be a time of decision.  
  
A decision Acting Captain Data would have to make.  
  
Tuvok found the android alone in Holodeck 3. The setting seemed cold and damp.  
  
"Is this a castle, Captain?" Tuvok inquired. Torch lamps burned along the walls. Gothic arched windows soared to the heavens. In the distance, he could hear singing in Latin.  
  
"A French monastery, circa 1500 AD," Data replied, "Navarre, France to be exact."  
  
"The birthplace of Capt. Picard," Tuvok noted.  
  
As Data walked towards him, his footsteps echoed on the stone floor.  
  
"I had hoped that it would be easier to form a decision in a quiet place," Data offered.  
  
Tuvok studied a wooden lectern, sifting through the Renaissance-era manuscripts. "Capt. Janeway made her motion to the Federation Council this morning. They are deliberating at this moment whether or not to suspend the Maquis Inquiry."  
  
He noticed that Data seemed troubled - if it was possible for an artificial being to have such a feeling.  
  
"If I were to launch Phase II of Project: Undertow," Data began, "how would you see the next 12-24 hours unfold?"  
  
Tuvok considered the question carefully. "If Capt. Janeway fails to win over the Council, we would lack the political clout to resist the Cavalry Faction for long. They would likely brand us as traitors and arrest us. Our supporters would not settle for that outcome. I expect that they would take up arms to defend us."  
  
"Then our actions could risk a much larger civil war," Data feared, "as Federation members allied themselves with one faction or another. Cmdr. Riker assures me that Capt. Picard is aware of the crisis in the Admiralty, but he would not elaborate further. I would have liked to hear the captain's advice."  
  
"As would I," Tuvok agreed. He listened to the chants of the monks. "I can see why you chose a monastery to weigh your options. I have every confidence that you will make the right choice. Not only for my shipmates, but for Starfleet."  
  
"Thank you, Commander," Data replied. If 50% of the fleet remained in Sector 001 after 1200 hours, that would mean they are defying a direct order from the Admiralty. It would signal that the Cavalry Faction had usurped Starfleet's authority. Admiral Ravvik and his followers could take control of Starfleet and bend the Federation to its will. The treaties with the Klingons, Romulans and Cardassians would likely fall to dust, as the war hawks in Starfleet expanded the Federation beyond their current frontiers.  
  
That is not the Federation I want, Data thought. He had studied the histories of many civilizations over the past few hours. Sometimes, a cataclysmic event was required to promote change. Did the Federation need a war to renew itself?  
  
The alternative was to accept Ravvik's ascension as a de facto military governor, lording over an indecisive and weakened Federation Council. That would plunge the Federation into galactic chaos.  
  
"We cannot simply allow Admiral Ravvik and his cohort seize control of Starfleet Command," Data concluded. "The actions of militant elements at Starfleet Command - and the risk of Section 31 involvement - constitute a clear and present danger to the sovereignty of the Federation. If the fleet has not dispersed from Sector 001 by 1201 p.m. Pacific Standard Time, you are authorized to begin Phase II. I will return The Doctor to you at that time."  
  
"I understand, Captain," Tuvok nodded. He walked over to the holodeck control panel and checked the chronometer.  
  
"It is 10 minutes to 12," Tuvok announced. "My crew should return to the Voyager to prepare for Phase II."  
  
"You have your orders," Data replied. "I wish you success on your mission." He blew out a candle on a desk. Dark shadows enveloped the study hall.  
  
Tuvok paused before he left the holodeck. "I expect to see the Enterprise at the Mars rendezvous at 1800 hours."  
  
Data smirked slightly. "I, too, will expect to see Capt. Janeway and your crew there. Good luck, Commander."  
  
As the noon-hour approached, the members of Project: Undertow prepared the unthinkable:  
  
An insurrection against Starfleet itself.  
  
Lt. Paris and dozens of security officers from both the Voyager and the Enterprise armed themselves with phaser rifles. Neelix watched nervously as the officers marched towards Voyager Cargo Bay 7. In minutes, they would be beamed into Starfleet Security's fortress-like compound. They were expected to thwart the Cavalry Faction's countermeasures and rescue ranking officers of the Diplomat Faction.  
  
Dr. Crusher had surgically masked Seven's Borg implants. She looked human. Cmdr. Worf had already provided her with civilian clothing. She would be beamed directly to San Francisco. There, she would await instructions from Worf.  
  
Cmdr. Laforge gave Ensign Kim a few last-minute instructions, then escorted him to Transporter Room 2. They waited for 1200 hours. Once aboard the Voyager, Kim would try to scramble the fleet's communications - in the event Ravvik's allies were seizing control of the fleet.  
  
A sense of inevitably had fallen upon the parties to this conspiracy. Phase II of Project: Undertow would begin. And it could lead to war.  
  
How it would end was anybody's guess.  
  
On the bridge of the Enterprise, Data stood up from the captain's chair.  
  
"Ensign Maxwell," Data inquired, "have you seen any movement from the fleet? Is there any indication that they are leaving Earth's orbit?"  
  
"None, sir," Maxwell stated. "They're either on stand-by, or already in dock."  
  
The Doctor, seated to Data's left, glanced nervously at him.  
  
Data stood up. "Computer, Red Alert." Alarms rang as red lights pulsed throughout the ship.  
  
It was 1200 hours and the fleet had not moved.  
  
"This is the captain," he announced to his crew, "All hands on deck. This is not a drill."  
  
Ensign Maxwell gulped. She had been aboard the Enterprise for six months and had seen no action. I knew it, she thought to herself. The Cardassians did break the armistice!  
  
"Ensign Maxwell," Data continued, "Stand by."  
  
The Doctor looked at the magnified view of the fleet. Still no movement. Could so many ships be under Ravvik's control? Nothing was certain.  
  
Data studied the main viewscreen for a moment, then sat in the captain's chair again.  
  
"This will be my last order to you, Doctor," Data stated, "After you transmit the order to project members, you will be returned to the Voyager."  
  
"Understood," The Doctor nodded.  
  
Data paused, certain that there would be no second chances after he gave The Doctor the order that would launch Phase II.  
  
"Doctor, please transmit the code word to Cmdr. Worf and Lt. Paris," Data stated. Now it begins.  
  
"Aye, aye, sir," The Doctor replied.  
  
The Doctor walked to the communications station to the rear. He tapped a panel.  
  
"Worf standing by," the Klingon's voice declared over the intercom.  
  
"Lt. Paris standing by," Paris announced. "Do you have the code word, Doc?"  
  
The Doctor looked towards Data, hoping in vain that he would not be asked to condemn his shipmates to an uncertain fate.  
  
Data nodded. "Please transmit the code word."  
  
The Doctor began to mouth the word, which would immediately set in motion a chain reaction that could not be stopped.  
  
So much for my dreams of joining the Academy's medical faculty, he groaned to himself. He heard the turbolift door open.  
  
A hand covered his mouth before he could utter the word.  
  
"Belay that order, Doctor," a voice announced from the rear.  
  
"Captain Picard!" Data seemed surprised.  
  
Picard let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness I was able to contact Cmdr. Riker in time. When he notified me about your little project, I must admit I found it to be quite unorthodox. But with all due respect, Data, I'd like my ship back."  
  
Data smirked slightly. "Computer. Transfer all command codes to Captain Picard. Authorization: Data, Epsilon 0237."  
  
"Recognize Picard, Jean-Luc as Captain of the USS Enterprise," the computer answered.  
  
"You are relieved, Commander," Picard smiled.  
  
"I stand relieved, Captain," Data stated.  
  
"But over half the fleet defying a direct order from Starfleet!" The Doctor babbled. "We're on the verge of a mutiny!"  
  
"A mutiny?" Ensign Maxwell gasped. "What exactly is going on, sir?"  
  
Picard tried to soothe the fears of the bridge crew. "The Federation Council has voted minutes ago to suspend the proceedings of the Maquis Inquiry for the foreseeable future. Capt. Janeway made quite a convincing presentation, I'm told."  
  
"But the fleet --," The Doctor muttered.  
  
"Captain!" Ensign Maxwell announced, as she scanned the main viewscreen. "The fleet is dispersing! They're either leaving the docks or reversing course!"  
  
Starships of every size and shape zoomed away from Earth's atmosphere or departed Sector 001 altogether.  
  
Data checked his internal chronometer. 1203 hours. A few minutes late, he thought, but the fleet chose not to play the kingmaker's role for Admiral Ravvik and the Cavalry Faction.  
  
This time.  
  
"Doctor, Data, in my Ready Room," Picard stated. He waited until the doors closed behind them.  
  
"Data, please inform project members from the Voyager and the Enterprise to remain on stand-by until further notice," Picard ordered. "We're not quite out of the woods yet."  
  
"Sir?" Data wondered.  
  
"Have Mr. Worf and a security detail meet me at the Starfleet Intelligence compound," Picard continued. "I have orders of my own to carry out. Some unfinished business with Admiral Ravvik."  
  
"Shall I return to Voyager, then?" The Doctor wondered.  
  
Picard paused in front of him. "Not yet. If Ravvik has plans of his own, I may yet ask you to - as William Shakespeare so eloquently wrote in Julius Caesar - 'cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war'. Let's hope it doesn't come to that."  
  
"Yes, sir," The Doctor beamed.  
  
"Data, you have the bridge," Picard stated, as he entered the turbolift. "Beam me and the security detail directly to Starfleet Intelligence."  
  
Within minutes, Picard, Worf and a dozen security officers materialized in front of the inquiry hearing room. Admiral Jellico and Cmdr. Tuvok were already there.  
  
"Admiral Jellico?" Picard inquired, while trading curious glances with Worf. "You were Riker's contact in the Admiralty?"  
  
Jellico shook his head. "Yes I am. When I learned that Riker was serving as an advocate at the Inquiry, I needed to be sure he wasn't serving the Cavalry's interests. Cmdr. Tuvok tells me we nearly averted an open rebellion at Starfleet Command."  
  
"Much too close for comfort, sir," Picard replied. "If the fleet didn't disperse as ordered, we may very well have found ourselves in the middle of an insurrection. I received a special warrant from the Admiralty, though I haven't been able to review it."  
  
"Don't open it yet, Picard," Jellico exclaimed. "I want to see Ravvik's face when you read the charges. He's had it coming for quite some time."  
  
Jellico glanced at Worf and the dozen security officers. "Have Worf accompany you, but I think you can leave your security detail outside for now. It's an arrest, not the Alamo."  
  
"Agreed, Admiral," Picard replied, "but I would prefer that we're ready for any situation. Ravvik may still have some surprises for us. If you don't mind me asking, why are you here?"  
  
"In the event Ravvik's conspirators intercepted you in France," Jellico explained, "I would have arrested that scheming Vulcan myself. Now that you've robbed me of that privilege, I'm merely here to ensure that he doesn't try to pull rank on you."  
  
In the hearing room, Ravvik was delivering the final verdict.  
  
"On the charges of conspiracy against the Federation, sabotage and treason," Ravvik announced with great ceremony, "this inquiry finds the defendants guilty on all counts. On the multiple charges of murder concerning the crew of the USS Vancouver, we find the defendants guilty."  
  
Then, the doors slid open. "I beg to differ, Admiral Ravvik," Jellico sneered.  
  
Ravvik turned towards him. He saw Jellico, Tuvok, Picard and Worf standing behind the defendants.  
  
"Cmdr. Tuvok, arrest Jellico and Picard," Ravvik ordered. "They've involved in a conspiracy against the Federation."  
  
"On the contrary," Tuvok stated indifferently, "the evidence suggests that you are part of an on-going conspiracy to undermine the authority of the Federation."  
  
"Cmdr. Worf, I'm giving you a direct order to arrest Tuvok and those officers!" Ravvik exclaimed.  
  
Worf simply glared at him, then folded his arms defiantly.  
  
Jellico gestured towards the warrant. "If you will do the honours, Captain Picard."  
  
"The Maquis Inquiry is suspended indefinitely," Picard revealed. "The charges against Chakotay and Torres are dismissed. It seems you underestimated Capt. Janeway's political influence. I'd be careful if I were you, Ravvik. You may be taking orders from her sooner than you think." He tapped a data pad.  
  
"By order of the Admiralty, I charge you with conspiracy against the Federation and treason," Picard glared at Ravvik. "The Judge Advocate will convene a general court-martial tomorrow, where you will have to explain why you summoned half of Starfleet's ships to Earth. Among other actions."  
  
Jellico relished the stunned expression on the admiral's face. Ravvik didn't think his bluff would be called.  
  
"I had hoped that you would recognize the dangers we are now facing," Ravvik pleaded. "The Federation is adrift with indecision. Paralyzed with petty arguments over concessions to the Romulans, the Klingons, the Cardassians. If we fail to act now, we will condemn the Federation to a bitter fate. Don't you see the logic of what the Cavalry Faction is trying to do?"  
  
"You speak of logic," Picard glowered, "when you and your supporters bring Starfleet to the brink of civil war? You speak of dangers to the Federation, when you threaten to tear up treaties and armistices signed in good faith? There is nothing logical about your actions, however grandiose your goals. The Federation was not founded on conquest, but on compromise."  
  
"Compromise?" Ravvik interrupted. "You would trade away Federation territories to our enemies, a piece at a time! When Federation citizens take up arms in the Badlands against Starfleet, it seems to me that the Federation must change. Or lose everything."  
  
Picard stared coldly at Ravvik. "You would sacrifice the lives of Starfleet's men and women to defend the Federation, or destroy it? I cannot accept that Starfleet is so short-sighted that it cannot adjust to the political bumps it may find in the galaxy. If there is a danger to the Federation, it's your messianic zeal to reshape the galaxy as you see fit."  
  
Jellico walked towards Riker. "Cmdr. Riker, your commission on the Enterprise is restored immediately. That was a gutsy scheme you had going. I knew I could count on you."  
  
Riker seemed amused by the sudden turn in fortune. "You sure have a funny way of showing it, Admiral. For a moment, I thought you didn't trust me!"  
  
"You're a fool, Jellico," Ravvik snarled. "This is a minor setback. You backed the wrong side. You've only delayed the inevitable. You chose to weaken Starfleet today. And the Federation will suffer the results of your cowardice for years to come!"  
  
Jellico ignored the slight. "Admiral Ravvik, Cmdr. Worf and Cmdr. Tuvok will escort you to your suite in Admiral Hall. You will be confined to quarters until your court-martial. I strongly advise you to accept these conditions."  
  
"And if I choose to resist?" Ravvik challenged.  
  
"We'll slap binders on your wrists and have Mr. Worf drag you to the brig in disgrace," Picard growled. "You can leave this room as a Starfleet admiral, or as a common criminal. I won't ask you again."  
  
Ravvik relented, then exited the room with Worf and Tuvok. "This is far from over, Jellico," the admiral sneered.  
  
Jellico shook Chakotay and Torres' hands. "I believe we have some wrongs to right, eh, Riker?"  
  
Riker beamed, then presented the rank insignia and comlinks of the Voyager shipmates. Picard smiled as he put the rank pips on the collars of Chakotay and Torres.  
  
"Your commissions are restored," Picard stated, "Commander. Lieutenant. After seven years, you have earned the right to wear that uniform. Let no one tell you otherwise."  
  
"Thank you, sir," Chakotay grinned. He shook Tuvok's hand. "I'm glad the inquiry business is behind me. I'll feel better once I'm back aboard the Voyager."  
  
Torres seemed indifferent. "Still, this inquiry found us guilty. I'm glad we got our commissions back, but I had rather hoped we would be found innocent. No offense, Cmdr. Riker."  
  
"None taken," Riker replied. "We passed this hurdle, but I think the Cavalry Faction won't simply vanish. Who knows how many Starfleet captains and Federation ambassadors subscribe to their warped vision of the galaxy?"  
  
"Then we need to set the record straight," Jellico concluded. "I'm going to petition the Federation Council to restore the mandate of the Reconciliation Committee. Chakotay and Torres will have the opportunity to tell the Maquis' side of the Badlands crisis." Torres smiled. "That would be a good idea."  
  
Over the next few days, the tensions surrounding Starfleet Command slowly faded. Some of Ravvik's conspirators were arrested - including three admirals, seven captains and a Federation ambassador. Starfleet Intelligence quietly investigated possible conspiracies in far-flung outposts of the galaxy. The courts-martial would likely continue for weeks.  
  
Routine had returned to the Enterprise. The inquisitive Ensign Maxwell stopped asking uncomfortable questions about a rumoured purging in Starfleet's hierarchy. With little hard information on which to base their suspicions, the junior officers became convinced that the so-called "emergency" was just another exercise.  
  
The senior officers encouraged that conclusion, since no one would have believed the truth. A mutiny at the highest levels of Starfleet? It was absurd.  
  
Picard reviewed personnel files in his Ready Room. His cup of Earl Grey tea steamed on the table. His door chimed.  
  
"Come," Picard announced.  
  
Capt. Janeway beamed as she spotted Picard, who was settled comfortably in his chair.  
  
"Captain Jean-Luc Picard," Janeway said, "for awhile there, Starfleet was beginning to believe that you were missing-in-action."  
  
"Riker suggested that I keep a low profile," Picard grinned, "despite my insistence that I cut short my leave and come here immediately. It turns out he was right. I was able to use that time to convince my allies in Starfleet Command and strategic starbases to resist the Cavalry Faction's mutinous overtures. Ravvik would have arrested me, had I shown up sooner. Forgive my manners, would you like something to drink. Coffee, perhaps?"  
  
"No, thank you," Janeway replied. "Duty calls. The Voyager will be disembarking soon: a neutral zone incursion by the Romulans. Though, oddly, the Admiralty wants me back in San Francisco as soon as we're done."  
  
"Ravvik's allies now see you as a political heavyweight," Picard quipped, "Considering the events of the past few days, a summons from the Admiralty may not be as good as it sounds."  
  
Janeway laughed. "Maybe so. Being the flavour-du-jour of Starfleet Command is not all it's cracked up to be. But seriously, I have something for you."  
  
She placed a tiny disc on his desk. "Tuvok wanted to return the self- destruct codes to the Enterprise."  
  
Picard held the disc. They were so close, he thought. So close to rebelling against what could have been an Admiralty dominated by militants. He wanted to believe that they had made the right choice. If Ravvik had gained the upper hand, they would surely be in the brig now.  
  
It had to be done, he convinced himself. Ravvik was correct about one fact. The Federation was paralyzed by indecision. The Cavalry Faction's intoxicating message - an imperial Federation answerable to no planet, no alliance - would resonate with those in need of a unity of purpose.  
  
"Keep the codes," Picard stated. "Ravvik may be powerless for now, but he still has many sympathizers in Starfleet. Perhaps aboard our own vessels."  
  
"If that is what you wish, Capt. Picard," Janeway replied. "And what is the status of Project: Undertow?"  
  
"Officially, we've disbanded Project: Undertow," Picard explained. "but unofficially, Jellico and his compatriots have suggested that we retain the concept -"  
  
"- for future reference," Janeway concluded. "I understand."  
  
Picard stood before his window and stared out into space. "So many years of war. Bloodshed. The Federation is weary. Bruised. I fear the Federation cannot sustain another intergalactic conflict."  
  
"If Section 31 is indeed involved," Janeway feared, "we may have a conflict, whether we like it or not."  
  
Picard sighed. "The Cavalry Faction isn't finished. Their dreams of flying the Federation banner throughout the galaxy, backed by armed garrisons, are seductive to many. They will regroup. We must be ready."  
  
He sipped his tea. "And what of Cmdr. Chakotay and Lt. Torres? I'm told Col. Kira Nerys of Bajor is co-chairing the Reconciliation Committee."  
  
"Chakotay is completing his testimony today," Janeway answered, "healing old wounds. Perhaps, in time, we can better understand the Badlands crisis."  
  
Janeway knew that the Maquis Inquiry had torn open some raw emotional scars. Chakotay and Torres wanted to participate in the Reconciliation Committee. Their time in the Maquis was part of their identity. It could not be denied.  
  
In a small room beside the Federation Council's grand assembly, Col. Nerys tapped a data pad.  
  
"Please enter for the record, Commander, your account of the USS Vancouver incident," Kira stated.  
  
Chakotay began to explain. "There was a Starfleet signature on the sensors: the Vancouver -" He stopped abruptly. The Maquis Inquiry had awoken some painful memories. Eight years had lessened the pain, but it never left him.  
  
"Take your time, Commander," Kira replied.  
  
"You don't have to be afraid," Torres added, "and you don't have to feel guilty. We took up arms with the Maquis because we had no other choice. We were defending our homes."  
  
Chakotay continued his story. Before he became a Starfleet officer, he was a Maquis partisan - caught in a war of survival against a ruthless foe.  
  
That was his identity then.  
  
He would not deny it now.  
  
THE END  
  
Next tale in the weeks after Voyager's homecoming:  
  
After completing an uneventful mission in the neutral zone, the Voyager has two unexpected visitors. Capt. Picard brings news from Earth. Have his worst fears materialized? Neither captain, however, expected Q to enter the fray - as Starfleet teeters towards open mutiny. The last thing they need is an omnipotent being taking sides. 


End file.
